


today and tomorrow and the day after that

by serendipitiness



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Introspection, M/M, Ragnor Fell (but only mentioned), this is really just Alec staring at Magnus all the time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 23:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15617127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitiness/pseuds/serendipitiness
Summary: On the third anniversary of Ragnor’s passing, Alec travels with Magnus to that still-empty cottage a little ways outside of Chelmsford.(or in which Alec comes to a realization about how long he wants to spend living this life)





	today and tomorrow and the day after that

**Author's Note:**

> god why are titles so hard to come up with

On the third anniversary of Ragnor’s passing, Alec travels with Magnus to that still-empty cottage a little ways outside of Chelmsford. It’s last minute; Magnus asks only the evening before if Alec wants to go with him for the full day, or at least a few hours of sunlight if Alec is too busy to make it that long. His tone is breezy with an affected lightness that makes Alec’s stomach clench, and before Magnus can even finish his sentence, Alec kisses the corner of his mouth and agrees. He gives Izzy the Institute for the night so that they can leave Brooklyn near midnight to catch the English morning, which is how he finds himself an ocean away from home right now.

He blinks rapidly when he steps out of the portal, inhaling the clean sharpness of the air; the sky is white, edging on gray, but it makes the bright green of the grass stand out in high relief. It’s quiet here, far quieter than Alec is used to, but he turns and focuses instead on Magnus and the way he stands stock still, the cadenced flare of his nostrils the only sign that he’s breathing.

“Ragnor moved here in the seventies,” Magnus says without prelude, still staring off into the distance, eyes hovering somewhere beyond the outline of the house. “I wanted him to buy this charming little three-bedroom flat in town that overlooked the Thames. God knows he could have afforded it, and the whole building, especially after those he investments he made in gold, but – well, he didn’t listen. He said no one would bother him here, between his wards and the distance from the city.”

“This is nice, though,” Alec says.

It’s the truth; the home itself is a hundred feet away, all white-washed walls and thatched roofs emerging from a grove of trees and shrubs that make it seem like it’s a part of the landscape. It’s the opposite of Manhattan.

“You wouldn’t last three days out here, city boy,” Magnus retorts fondly before sighing, long and heavy, and adding, “God, he always had such abysmal taste.” His voice floats a little, the words less enunciated than usual, hazy and unmoored in a way that just barely hints at the how much Magnus is holding in.

Alec’s never been with Magnus on this day before. Usually, Magnus leaves before the sun is up to find Raphael, or Cat, while Alec goes about his day sending too-frequent texts to Magnus, since he can’t help but worry. Now that he’s here, though, Alec doesn’t move, content to let his presence support Magnus however it will. He watches the long, graceful lines of Magnus with a singular focus, eye drawn to the place where the back of his neck is exposed, the careful strip of skin that’s always so soft under Alec’s rough fingers. Against the backdrop of the English countryside, he almost looks like a part of a painting, standing out as the too-sharp focal point, mismatched simply by virtue of the truth that he’s always been the brightest thing in Alec’s gaze.

“Alexander?”

Alec blinks to see Magnus turning toward him, hand out and palm up. Smiling gently, Alec takes three steps to reach Magnus, hand already extended. Their fingers fit together with practiced ease, Alec’s thumb slotting second behind Magnus’.

They wander together, Alec following Magnus along an invisible, memorized route until Magnus pushes the gate door open and they’re in the shadow of the house itself. This close, Alec can see gritty dust gathering on the window panes while underfoot, velvety lamb’s-ears, dotted with tiny violet blooms, crawl over a crooked brick path. Tucked into the front garden is a metal table, rusted from rain and sun.

“We used to have tea out here,” Magnus says. “I’d complain about my appallingly nonexistent love life, and he’d complain about me.”

Alec draws closer to Magnus, letting their shoulders bump in a show of solidarity when his words are insufficient.

Magnus pushes out a laugh, a low, rumbling chuckle that comes from the bottom of his lungs, raising the temperature of the air so that Alec feels warmer. “He always ended up conjuring these horrible little liverwurst and onion sandwiches that were his favorite, because he’s the worst person I’ve ever met.“

Alec raises an eyebrow.

Magnus smiles, soft and tragic, and trains his gaze on Alec. "The best,” he amends quietly, then, “ _One_ of the best. He has tough competition.”

Alec knows better than to ask Magnus what he means – they’ve been together long enough that Alec can finally read an intended compliment from between the lines. A part of him wants to argue; he knows there’s absolutely no way that he can match the ranks of the people Magnus has met, warriors and poets and legends who are better than Alec in every single way. But today isn’t a day to fight Magnus on something as mundane as a kind word, not when they’re here to remember Magnus’ best friend.

Magnus’ best friend, who’s been gone three years because of a fight he had nothing to do with.

“I wish I’d done more,” Alec blurts out suddenly, before he can stop himself. Magnus turns away from the landscape, brow furrowed as he looks at Alec with a question in his expression. “When he passed,” Alec clarified. “I don’t know. We… I, at least. I was so caught up in the Book of the White, and the Cup, and you, and all of that that I… I don’t think I even brought up his death a single time, even though – even though it only happened because we – shadowhunters – got him involved. Magnus, when it happened I didn’t even tell you I was sorry for your loss.”

“You didn’t,” Magnus says, bluntly though not unkindly, “but I didn’t expect you to. We were just beginning then, still mostly strangers. You couldn’t have known the significance of it all.”

Alec shakes his head. “That’s not an excuse. I should’ve said something anyway. I  _am_ sorry, Magnus.” He bites his lip, rubbing his thumb and index finger together that, he realizes suddenly, is oddly similar to what Magnus does when he’s anxious. “Is it bad to say I’m almost glad he never met me? I don’t think there was much for him to like.”

“Then, maybe,” Magnus says, “but not now.” He reaches out and stops the incessant movement of Alec’s hand, his own fingers brushing over the bones of Alec’s knuckles, whisper-soft and so gentle despite the power thrumming under his skin. “Immortal life makes most of us cynics at heart, but if Ragnor could see all the work you’ve done with the Council… how you’ve persuaded  _me_ that it’s a venture worth pursuing. He always called the nephilim  _pompous self-centered children_ , but I think you would have been the one to prove him wrong.”

“There’s still so much to do,” Alec says as he flips his hand, letting his blunt fingernails tickle the flesh of Magnus’ palm before twining their fingers together in a loose tangle. “The Clave is only just beginning to agree to re-opening the Accords for discussion and renegotiation. It’ll take decades for them to actually sit in the same room with downworlders and pin down new, fair laws in writing. I just want to see it through, you know?”

Magnus leans back against the rusted-over metal of his chair, cocking his head and exposing the jut of his Adam’s apple to the sun, before saying, “I get what you’re saying. Still, I can’t help but think… it’s never been this good before, you know.”

Alec scoffs. “Magnus, please.”

“I mean it,” Magnus says. His eyes are earnest, brown nearly gone under the sheen of reflected light, and Alec’s startled to realize he’s holding his breath as Magnus’ voice drops in volume. “I’m old, Alexander, but not so old that I remember a time when your people weren’t lording over us. Things are imperfect now – they will  _always_ be imperfect – but believe me when I say that things have never been better. And so much of that is because of  _you_.”

Alec swallows, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. The weight of Magnus’ faith renders him speechless, the way it often does, and all he does is mutter an inarticulate, “Uh.”

Magnus shakes his head and chuckles, necklaces swishing against the open collar of his shirt, and looks off toward the horizon. Alec watches him,  _again and again and again_ ; he has already devoted so many hours of his life to drinking in the sight of Magnus, yet he finds that he can’t bear to look away, fearful of blinking if it means depriving himself of even a moment of seeing Magnus like this, ethereal and immortal, belonging anywhere and anytime. He wonders, not for the first time, what Magnus was like as a young man free in an older world, eyes shining to the sight of the Prado and the Puerta de Alcala when they were still new, or in Victorian era England, celebrating the Diamond Jubilee of the Queen.

“Alexander?”

Alec startles to realize that Magnus is staring back at him now, lips curved in a tender smile that makes Alec’s heart thud energetically behind his ribs, his own body naturally betraying the heady joy that comes with Magnus’ presence. Under the table, Magnus’ boots hook around Alec’s ankles, and they share a quiet look as they settle back into their seats.

I could do this forever, Alec thinks, feeling the metal dig into his shoulder blades and the tips of Magnus’ shoes hard on his calves.

He inhales sharply.

_Oh._

**Author's Note:**

> i started writing this last year with a plan of deep-diving into immortality and alec's realization that he's willing to live that life with magnus, but i'm not sure if i'm still in the same headspace about immortality, so i'm just going to let this out into the wild here.
> 
> come visit me at [@laughingmagnus](https://laughingmagnus.tumblr.com/)!


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